Last Names
by MoDaD
Summary: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life. (Separated into chapters by request.)
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><em>I am a badass<em>.

That first and final statement of the unofficial fighter pilot's creed filled Felina Feral's mind as she rounded another lap around Section Alpha of the elevated airstrip. At 800 feet long and 75 feet wide, it took just under four laps to reach a mile, though she had lost count after her eighth.

The cool morning breeze felt extra crisp as she rapidly inhaled and exhaled lungfuls of air. Sweat dripped off of her brow as she slowed to a walking pace, stopping at the edge of the runway. Bold KEEP CLEAR warnings lined the deck where she stood.

Felina wiped her brow with her forearm as she crouched, resting her arms on her knees as she took in the view. The streets of Megakat City were busy 75 stories below, with the morning rush hour traffic causing the daily gridlock on the nearby freeway. To the sides, office workers could be seen going about their business in the windows of skyscrapers.

She had no idea what it was any of them could be doing in their cubicles. The environment of the office was completely foreign to her, and the thought of being confined to a desk for eight hours a day didn't seem very appealing.

She stood up, her pulse no longer throbbing in her temples. Soon the morning shift would be finished with their regularly scheduled FOD walk, making sure there weren't any random pieces of debris that could get sucked into an intake and cause an engine to fail.

The FOD walk was the primary reason for the airstrip's downtime, and allowed Felina to use the airstrip everyday for 30 minutes as a running track. There were plenty of treadmills in the gym, and a full-size track available at the academy, but she preferred the unique perspective of running in the clouds among skyscrapers.

A loud hiss of steam came from underneath, as the airstrip rumbled slightly. The pneumatic catapult system, similar to those used on aircraft carriers, was critical for rapidly accelerating jets to reach take-off speed in such a short distance. A notched slider retracted along a recessed track nearby.

"All non-essential personnel clear the runway," the authoritative voice of the current shift's air boss said across a network of loudspeakers. "Especially you, lieutenant. My deck isn't your personal gym."

Felina frowned, gazing up at the command tower. She was tempted to throw him a particular gesture, but decided at the last second not to. Though she technically out-ranked the air boss, this was the airstrip. And on the airstrip, the air boss was god.

* * *

><p>Discarding her sweaty tank top and track pants, Felina showered in the locker room and changed into her uniform. A utilitarian grey with black markings, it was more practical than fashionable. She sat on the bench in front of her locker as she laced her freshly shined boots.<p>

There were rumors that someone was going to retire soon, and if they were true, Felina knew she'd be in the running for a promotion. For what position? It could be any number of them, though most of them would likely be lateral moves. She needed the sky, and would decline anything that took her away from that.

She stood up, grabbing her belt with holstered sidearm from her locker as she closed it behind her. She walked up to the row of sinks, looking at herself in the mirror as she looped the belt through her pants.

First looking left, then right, she made sure no one else was in the room. She smirked as she turned her back to the mirror slightly, peering over her shoulder.

"Okay…draw," she said to no one in particular as she spun to face her reflection, quick-drawing her sidearm and taking aim one-handed. Her reflection was aiming back at her.

"…Okay, looks like you win this time," she said as she spun the gun by the trigger guard on her index finger and re-holstered.

There were a lot of things Felina didn't like about the Enforcers lately, but guns and planes weren't two of them, and no other place had more of both.

She made her way to the locker room entrance, and was about to round the privacy wall when she heard two officers having a conversation just on the other side. Normally she wouldn't eavesdrop, but she heard her name being mentioned.

"…Feral's niece is a shoe-in for the position," one voice said. "I hate how this place runs on nepotism."

"There's no way they're replacing him with her. She's too crazy and…weird," another voice said.

"How else do you think she made lieutenant so fast?" the other said. "If they gave her that they'll give her the position in a heartbeat."

Felina's knuckles had turned white, her fists clenched as she bit her tongue. The voices were drowned out as others filled the outside corridor.

Someone walked into the locker room entrance, startled to see Felina looking visibly upset, standing against the wall.

"Oh, lieutenant, sir," she said. "Almost didn't see you there."

"Yeah, whatever," Felina replied tersely as she exited the locker room.

* * *

><p>The natural high of the morning run had all but disappeared, as Felina scowled her way into the morning's debriefing. Before every shift, the commander of the air group, better known as the CAG, stood in front of a podium with the Enforcer logo prominently displayed and read off some notes for the day's planned missions. If there wasn't an emergency, the CAG would just tell everyone who their wingmen would be during routine patrols.<p>

Her mood was palpable, as several other pilots tried to discreetly move away from her as she took a seat mid-row.

The debriefing room was cramped, and had a musty smell of age, despite the building itself being relatively new. The walls were lined with several plaques and shadowboxes, several with bronze placards with the names of honored pilots and other associated people. An occasional framed photo was also on display.

A name that appeared on several of them was Captain Theodore S. Ritz, the same man who was now approaching the podium. Felina crossed her arms and leaned backward, sliding forward in her seat slightly, pretending to ignore the glances from the other pilots.

Felina had a strong feeling that it was Gorman and Jones who had been talking about her, and both of them were sitting off to her side, whispering comments to each other. They quickly quieted down once Ritz began to speak.

"Alright, settle down," Ritz began as he rustled some papers in front of him. The room was silent. Ritz stood at about five feet and eleven inches, one inch shorter than Felina. He was in his mid-forties, in excellent physical shape, and his thick chevron mustache partially concealed his mouth as he spoke.

"I'm not going to waste your time with some self-aggrandizing speech where I reminisce about the good-old days, so I'll get right to it," Ritz said, his face somber and serious, more-so than usual. "As some of you have already guessed, I turned in my papers upstairs this morning. I'm retiring."

Felina's eyes opened wide, as the conversation she had overheard earlier came into a different context. Ritz is retiring? Then who's going to be the CAG?

"Now, I know a lot of you are eager to know who's going to be replacing me," Ritz said with a barely noticeable smile. Several pilots did little to conceal their interest, sitting on the edge of their seats. Felina was inadvertently doing the same.

"As you know, Captain Jackson was transferred out of the air group due to injuries sustained during a prior mission. That means one of you lucky first lieutenants is in the running," Ritz continued.

Several pilots groaned, audibly urging Ritz to stop with the suspense and say who it would be. Felina tensed, having forgotten about Jackson's transfer. Going from lieutenant to CAG would essentially be a double-promotion, something that she hadn't considered. The whole room was now looking at her.

"Alright, I'll stop dragging this on," Ritz said as he withdrew a white envelope and stepped out from behind the podium. He walked toward Felina. The white envelope with the Enforcer's logo was in clear view, no doubt containing orders and a promotion from the Commander himself.

And then the envelope passed her, as Ritz handed it to Gorman.

"Congratulations, Lt. Gorman," Ritz said. "You're the new CAG."

Gorman looked surprised, and didn't say anything for a moment. He quickly snapped out of his stunned silence and took the letter, standing up and saluting. The other pilots awkwardly clapped at first, but got their bearings.

Felina sat in stunned silence as the room filled with applause. Aside from being a complete jerk, he's a 2nd lieutenant, she thought. A rank lower than her own.

* * *

><p>Ritz had continued the debriefing as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Even though his retirement was imminent he still did his job as normal. Once he finished and the other pilots stood to carry out their assignments Felina approached him.<p>

Ritz looked as though he knew what was on her mind, and he spoke first.

"My office, lieutenant."

Felina frowned, tempted to make a scene so everyone could see.

"That wasn't a suggestion," Ritz said anew, his voice stern.

Felina held her tongue and followed behind Ritz as he exited the debriefing room and walked a short distance down the hallway, passing several windowed doors. Like most of Enforcer Headquarters, occasional artificial potted plants lined the way. Someone's idea of making the place seem less utilitarian. It didn't work.

Ritz paused as he reached a door with his name stenciled on the lower side of the window. He turned the knob and gestured for her to enter.

"Have a seat," he said, closing the door as Felina walked past.

Ritz's office, normally filled with various framed photos, an occasional engraved commendation and shelves of assorted paperwork was now mostly empty. Several boxes lined the far wall just under a modest window where the airstrip could be seen several stories below. An Enforcer jet, a unique variant of the F-86 Sabre, could be seen rocketing into the sky over the edge of the runway, its takeoff assisted by the pneumatic catapult that was now retracting back along the track. The walls vibrated slightly while the noise-proofing of the building kept the deafening roars of afterburners from interfering with everyone's business inside the building.

"The conversation I have in mind isn't one meant for sitting," she said as she crossed her arms. She leaned against the wall adjacent to the window, keeping her gaze focussed outside.

"Alight then, I'll just cut out the pleasantries. You're no CAG, lieutenant," Ritz said.

"And Gorman is?" Felina said. "He's a 2nd lieutenant-"

"1st lieutenant as of this morning, and captain by the end of the week," Gorman cut her off.

"What?" she exclaimed, stepping up from her position at the wall and walking up to him. "A double-promotion in a week? What for?"

"Because Jackson's finished, and the alternative wasn't one we were willing to consider," Ritz said.

"We?" Felina said, her eyes narrowing. She felt her blood boiling as the realization struck.

"Besides, I thought you'd be sympathetic," Ritz said as he turned away, taking a seat behind his now sparse desk.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ritz picked up a white coffee mug with the letters CAG stenciled in black on it. After taking a sip, he replied.

"Gorman and the rapid promotion. Exceptions being made, not unlike you," Ritz said with a disapproving frown.

Felina slammed both of her fists down on the end of Ritz's desk, leaning across it to look him in the eyes. He was unfazed, and took another sip of coffee.

"Listen, sir, I'm getting sick and tired of getting disrespected by everyone just because of my last name, I worked hard to get to where I am, harder than a lot of other recruits, especially someone like Gorman."

"Ever think that maybe you've got it backwards?" Ritz said. "That just maybe your abilities aren't in question, but your attitude?"

Felina stood back, at a loss for words.

"Maybe it's not the fact that you made lieutenant that's got people upset with you," Ritz continued. "Maybe it's the fact that you're _still_ a lieutenant."

She growled slightly under her breath as she turned away from Ritz and stormed out of his office, slamming the door hard. The glass broke into several shards that clattered on the carpet.

Ritz shook his head as he resumed packing up what few personal possessions he still had in his office.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 2<strong>

Felina stomped down the the diamond plate patterned steel steps of the stairwell and kicked open the access door that led into the hangar. A nearby mechanic was startled by her abrupt entrance and dropped his toolbox, causing several wrenches, sockets and screwdrivers to fall out.

She ignored him, her mind replaying her earlier conversation with now retiring Captain Ritz.

Ever since Felina had enlisted at the academy, she'd been stuck in her uncle's shadow. The great Commander Ulysses Feral, a living legend of sorts, whose earlier exploits in his career kept him in good graces with the city and his troops. Despite the occasional public misfortune, Commander Feral's success in fighting crime at various levels made him almost as much of a staple of Megakat City as the ten-term Mayor Manx.

Felina respected her uncle as much as the next Enforcer, but his successes always overshadowed hers.

* * *

><p>When she had first enlisted, she had entered basic combat training with a single-minded focus and determination. This was crucial, as the drill sergeant was cruel.<p>

"Drop and give me fifty, you worthless piles of garbage!" Drill Sergeant Amherst shouted. Felina and the group of recruits dropped to their stomachs, toes pointed down, backs straight, palms open and pressed into the dirt. She was the only woman in the squad.

The recruits counted in unison, all of them sharing the burning sensations of the muscles in their arms being exerted.

"Fourty-nine…" Felina said aloud, lowering to the ground. Her arms ached and shook slightly.

"You call that a pushup, recruit?" Amherst said as he crouched down and shouted at her, his face just adjacent to hers. "Straighten your back!"

She tried to do what he said, but her back was already as straight as she could make it.

"All the way down, I want to see your chin hit the dirt!"

Felina struggled as she had already finished her 50th pushup, her arms giving out on her. She collapsed down.

"Pay close attention, recruits," Amherst said. "The real world that we fight and die in doesn't give you favors because of your last name."

The other recruits were standing at attention now, and Felina started to pick herself up. Amhert's already angry face somehow managed to look more outraged as he stepped alongside her and put his boot at her back and shoved her down into the ground. Caught off-guard, Felina found herself nose-deep in the dirt.

"I didn't say you were done, private!" Amherst shouted. "You're going to stay here until you can give me 50 pushups correctly."

Amherst wasn't the only problem she had, and despite him singling her out at every opportunity she did get through basic training and into officer candidate school. She wanted to be a pilot, because pilots represented the best of what the Enforcers had to offer. If she could become a pilot, she thought, she could get out of her uncle's shadow and earn everyone's respect.

Somehow, OCS had managed to be worse. The coursework was just as difficult as any graduate-level college, with a heavy emphasis on math and physics. Aviation had a complicated simplicity to it, and the combat elements, while exciting, were difficult. She had spent countless hours in simulations and sitting through war tactics lectures. There were many ways to accidentally kill yourself in the air and only one to kill your enemy.

Instructor Carlson had handed a written exam back to her, with FAILED stamped in bold red lettering.

"Your combat analysis was short-sighted and just plain wrong," Carlson had later said when Felina confronted him about the grade. "You just can't coast through this class because of your uncle."

Her failure on the exam would mean repeating the course all over again. Another six weeks lost while her peers would be moving on to the next phase of their training. She had retreated to the unisex locker room afterword, seeking solitude in a bathroom stall. She sat there, elbows on her knees and hands on her forehead. She wasn't crying. She never cried. But she was depressed, and wondered if maybe, just maybe, everyone was right.

Maybe she was only here because of who she was related to and the special treatment that resulted from it.

She looked up, and read some of the graffiti that had been either scratched or written in marker on the wall. Several lines of text caught her attention.

_I am a badass._  
><em>I fly a badass plane that shoots badass guns.<em>  
><em>I go faster than the speed of sound, and drop badass bombs.<em>  
><em>I fly with other badasses whose respect I've earned.<em>  
><em>No obstacle can stop my badass will.<em>  
><em>I get my mission done.<em>  
><em>I am a badass.<em>

That's the dumbest version of the fighter pilot's creed I've ever read, she thought to herself. Whoever had scribbled this particular rendition had obviously favored one word in particular.

Most pilots had their own saying, creed or verse they repeated to themselves, either during takeoffs, landings or combat. Something easy to remember that could be repeated in your head to try to keep fear from making you think about other things.

She sighed as she thought about that.

No fear, no other things.

* * *

><p>Felina finished her walk across the expansive hangar, that particular memory calming her somewhat. She had retaken the course and eventually passed. It wasn't easy, but she managed to prove that she belonged in the Enforcers, going so far as to qualify as a combat pilot and get a helicopter class added to her certification.<p>

Afterward, she'd even partook in the special weapons and tactics division, becoming one of the few Enforcers to have what was colloquially known as a "grand slam," being combat effective both in the air, on the ground and even hand-to-hand. She'd thought this was something that'd earn her the respect she sought and get her out of her uncle's shadow.

But she had been wrong. Her cross-departmental presence merely added to everyone's suspicion that she was simply succeeding because of who she was related to, and not because of her own efforts.

Her rapid promotion to lieutenant didn't help extinguish those suspicions.

She approached the end of the hangar, where several F-86 Sabres were parked, all painted white and grey with the yellow Enforcer logo standing out on the wings and fuselage. This particular model was specially made for the Enforcers, taking the 50 year old design of the F-86 and giving it several modernized features.

These features included contemporary radar and fly-by-wire systems along with an updated Pratt & Whitney F100 turbofan for a power-plant. With these additions this new Sabre was said to be almost on-par with an F-16 and somehow more cost-effective. Felina wasn't sure how that was true, and suspected that some manufacturer had duped the city into an unscrupulous parts and services contract.

She approached one in particular that had her name stenciled just under the canopy. Her shift was up and it was time to take to the sky.

"Sorry to hear about the brass snubbing you, lieutenant," a voice said from behind. Felina turned and saw it was Stevenson, some new guy just out of OCS.

"Is that what everyone's been saying?" she asked.

"Pretty much."

"Do they sound happy about it?"

"Well, uh…" Stevenson paused.

Felina sighed and forced a laugh.

"Never mind. Let's get this sortie started," she said as she walked over to check over the maintenance report on her aircraft.

"Will you be going to Shenanigans tonight?" Stevenson asked as he did the same.

Shenanigans was a bar that was popular among the Enforcers. It was located just a few blocks away from Headquarters. It had a long relationship with those who protected and served. It was often the location of celebrations, with gatherings for retirements and promotions being commonplace. There'd be both tonight, she knew.

"I don't know," she replied. "I'm just trying to take this day one step at a time."

"I hear they're having free drinks," Stevenson said with a smile.

* * *

><p>The sortie was uneventful, much to Felina's disappointment. A city-wide threat would have been just the distraction to make her forget about the day's events. Instead she found herself thinking about Ritz's words in-between her verbal status updates with her wingman.<p>

After returning to Enforcer Headquarters and finishing her post-flight checklist, she returned to the locker room. She showered again and changed out of her uniform, putting on a pair of denim jeans and a clean tank top. She took out her sidearm and ejected the magazine. She pulled back the slide, causing the 9mm cartridge to be expelled. She caught it mid-air and inserted it in to the top of the magazine. She placed both on a small shelf at the top of the locker. She closed it, the combination lock automatically securing.

She had no reason to go to Shenanigans, aside from the free drinks. The thought of just heading home for the day was tempting, but the more she thought about it, the more upset she got. They'd be all together, free to talk aloud about her. The thought made her sick.

"I'll go, if only out of spite," she said to herself. "And, free drinks."

* * *

><p>Shenanigan's was just small enough to feel cozy and just large enough that one could sit on one side of the bar and not have to interact with anyone else if they chose to. Felina had arrived at an inopportune moment, entering through the door just as someone was raising a glass in honor of Captain Theodore Ritz.<p>

"He may not have been the most well-liked, the best dressed, the handsomest, or even the brightest, but he sure was the best CAG we've ever had, you know, not counting all the others," Jones said humorously.

The room filled with laughter as Ritz took the toast good-naturedly.

"See what you have to look foward to?" Ritz said to Gorman who was standing across from him, leaned slightly against a pool table.

"I'm sure I can handle it," Gorman replied. His eyes caught Felina's briefly. The drink he was holding was not his first of the evening. "Though, I'm sure I _earned_ what I have coming to me."

He looked right at Felina when he said the word "earned" and then held his glass up high. She bit her lip.

"Hear, hear!" several of the gathered said in unison, apparently oblivious to Felina's entrance. Several were in street clothes, though some were still in uniform, apparently fresh off their shifts. Gorman turned his gaze, and Felina walked discreetly to the bar.

The drinks, she soon found out, were not free.

* * *

><p>Several hours passed, and the celebration continued in the background as Felina took a another sip from the bottle. Was it her fifth or her sixth? She'd lost count.<p>

One thing she had noticed was an expensive looking cherrywood box with a bronze engraved plate that Ritz had received. He had opened it and withdrew a nickel-plated 1911 style .45 caliber pistol. It had his name and years of service etched on the slide and an Enforcer logo on each pearl grip. A common retirement gift for high-level people like Ritz. Newspapers gave out gold watches to their retirees. The Enforcers gave out guns.

Many of her coworkers had stopped by her position at the end of the bar, and she exchanged meaningless small talk with several of them. They all avoided the topic that was no doubt on each of their minds.

This was stupid, she thought, as she finished her latest cold one.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a voice asked. She turned and looked to see a lone patron a few seats down from her.

"Perfect timing," she replied. "Though that's all you're getting me."

He moved down, keeping one stool in-between them.

"Don't get the wrong idea. You just look like someone who could use it."

"That obvious?" she said, facing forward.

"You could say that."

Another burst of collective laughter roared in the background. No doubt another humorous shared-experience told in hyperbole.

The patron ordered another round and a new bottle appeared in front of Felina. She didn't consider herself an alcoholic, and knew she could stop if she wanted to, but she didn't. She took another long sip and glanced over at him anew.

The guy was dressed in mechanic's overalls and wore a backwards baseball cap.

"Why are you here?" Felina asked. "You know Ritz or Gorman?"

"I know Jones," he replied. "We had a course together at OCS back-in-the-day. Not very bright, but he means well."

"Friends?"

"Not really. Haven't seen him in years. I just came here for the free drinks and to reminisce about some old times. But, mostly the free drinks."

"Hope you're not too disappointed," she said with a small laugh.

"Well, in the Enforcers, I guess you kind of have to get used to disappointment."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 3<strong>

The world was a blurry mess, and now it was filled with a shrill sound that reverberated in Felina's aching head.

_Where am I? What is that awful noise…_

Her eyes focussed and she realized she was lying on the hardwood floor of her apartment, facedown, adjacent to a pile of dirty laundry in front of her bed. She glanced up and realized the sound was her alarm clock. It was 5:30 am.

She groaned as she placed both her palms on the floor, vaguely hearing Amherst's voice in her head shouting at her to use better pushup form. She lurched forward, trying to reach the alarm clock, missing, and instead collided with the dresser it sat upon. The force of the collision caused the alarm clock to fall off and break apart on the floor, causing the noise to stop.

"Not what I had in mind…" she said aloud, noting the aftertaste of vomit, her face wrinkling in disgust. "But whatever."

She rolled over into a sitting position, her back to the dresser. She noticed she was still wearing the clothes she wore to Shenanigan's, except they were torn in places, and there were a few blood stains. In addition to her head, her face was also in pain.

With great effort, and using the dresser for support, she managed to get to her feet. Bracing against the wall she maneuvered herself the short distance in her one-bedroom apartment to the bathroom and turned on the light. She instantly regretted it as her retinas constricted, her world awash in the artificial light. She rubbed her eyes and stared into the mirror, her face gradually coming into focus.

"Well, that explains a lot," she said, noting a fresh black eye. She touched it with her index finger and winced. She fumbled around the sink, accidentally knocking her toothbrush into the toilet.

"Shopping list: new alarm clock, new toothbrush," she said to herself, finding the bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet she was looking for. She opened the bottle, and spilled several, a few falling into the sink and onto the floor. The few that made it into her open palm she took dry.

She half-walked-half-stumbled into her living room, collapsing more than sitting onto a sofa that had seen better days. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, wondering how long her disorientation was going to last. She opened her eyes, and noticed her phone was resting on the cheap end table she had "confiscated" from an Enforcer auction. It was blinking.

Likely filled with several wonderful messages for me, Felina thought.

It wasn't the only thing resting there, she noticed. A hand-written post-it note was beside it. She reached over and held it in front of her face, her ability to read slightly hindered by her hangover.

_I came for the drinks but stayed for the fight. Nice talking to you tonight, lieutenant._

The note was signed, but it was smudged and she couldn't make out the words.

The guy from the bar, she thought to herself. He must've carted my inebriated self home. She tried to remember his name, certain he'd mentioned it at least once, but she was drawing a blank.

Bits and pieces of the previous night's events were starting to come back to her. After the guy in the baseball cap had bought her a drink she knew that Gorman had approached her and said something both to her and him. Felina couldn't recall the specifics, but the guy who had bought her a drink seemed to take offense.

Something about her uncle. Yes, her uncle. Gorman had brought him up again and Felina wasn't going to hear anymore about it. She had gotten up and punched Gorman, and he punched her back. Then a fight had broken out in the bar with everyone else, and then she had woken up on the floor of her apartment.

Great, she thought. That's going to make work a lot more interesting today.

* * *

><p>Felina stood at attention on the airstrip, several Sabres parked off to the side. None were occupied, however, as every pilot in uniform was lined up, side-by-side, facing forward. Each brandished a wound from the previous night's activities, including now CAG and Captain Gorman whose lower-lip featured a few fresh stitches. All did their best to hide their discomfort and keep from making eye contact as Commander Feral himself walked in front of them. He passed each pilot as if inspecting the finished products of a factory preparing to be shipped to market. He made a noise of disgust.<p>

Sergeant Welker followed alongside, clipboard in hand. He was the highest ranking non-commissioned officer, and Commander Feral was rarely seen in the field without him. Though even a 2nd lieutenant technically outranked him, it would be a foolish officer who ever dared question the grizzled and experienced Sergeant.

Commander Feral passed Felina, taking half-a-glance, and shook his head in disapproval. Felina's jaw tightened, causing her black eye to throb slightly more. He walked past her, took one more glance at them, frowned and then walked away, heading back into the hangar. The Sergeant remained.

"Due to his severe disappointment in all of you, Commander Feral has authorized me to speak for him," the Sergeant said, facing all of them. "It likely has something to do with this," he continued as he held up the day's issue of the Megakat Times. The front-page story's headline reading "Enforcer brawl causes thousands of dollars in damages."

The breeze blew slightly, a conning tower flag indicating it was to the southwest.

"Now, for what I'm sure are completely unrelated reasons, the Commander has instructed me to inform you that regularly scheduled sorties are suspended," the Sergeant said. "And instead, you'll be spending today doing a full physical re-evaluation."

The group groaned audibly.

"And, we'll be starting that right now," the Sergeant said, producing a whistle. He blew into it loudly. "Formation march, gentlemen. We'll be taking the stairs."

* * *

><p>A physical re-evaluation was difficult under normal circumstances, complete with all of the activities one would associate with boot camp. Dressed in flight gear and with most still suffering the fresh effects of hangovers and bar fight injuries, the group was not doing well.<p>

Felina had kept pace with the others as they had taken the thousand stairs down Enforcer headquarters and been marched 10 blocks down the street, all of them arriving at the academy grounds. They were now going through the recruit's obstacle course, and Felina was now upside-down. Her legs and arms crossed over a rope suspended 20 feet above a pool of muddy water as she slowly shimmied to get to the other side.

Several loud screams and splashes could be heard behind her as Felina managed to make it to the other side, collapsing on the awaiting platform.

"This is pitiful," the Sergeant said as he took notes on his clipboard, glancing at several Enforcers now covered in mud. "Start over," he said to them.

Though her reflexes were dulled and the world was still overwhelming her senses, Felina was determined to finish the course. Gorman flung off the rope and landed unceremoniously next to her.

"This is all your fault," he rasped, out of breath.

"That's debatable, _sir_," she said as she lifted herself to her feet. An awaiting zipline would take them down from the platform. Felina reached up and grabbed the handles. Gorman did the same next to her. Both walked over the edge as the zipline took them down rapidly. Felina's arms protested at the strain.

"I'm not going to forget you punching me in the face, lieutenant," Gorman said during the descent.

"Why don't we just call it even," Felina said as they both reached the ground, skidding to a stop in the sandy gravel. A 15-foot vertical wall awaited them. It was too tall for anyone to climb up by themselves, and required teamwork to get over. The two sprinted the short distance to it, pausing as they reached it.

"I'm going up first," Gorman said. Felina was about to protest, but he cut her off. "That's an order."

She leaned forward and cupped both of her hands. Gorman stepped up, placing a foot there and Felina lifted upwards with a grunt. It was just enough of a boost to allow Gorman to reach the top of the edge and with much effort, pulling himself to the top. Once there, he turned around and leaned over the side, reaching down.

Felina placed a boot near the base and jumped up slightly, grabbing Gorman's outstretched arm with both hands. He pulled her up while she partly climbed up the side of the wall. Under optimal circumstances this was difficult. Today it was near impossible. Once Felina reached the top, they both sat there to take a breather. They were in the lead, the others a good 60 seconds behind in the course.

"You know, you're going to end up just like that Enforcer reject you were hanging out with at the bar last night," Gorman said. "He and his buddy thought they were special, too. Now they're working a junkyard for the rest of their lives."

"From where I'm sitting, a junkyard sounds nicer than being around you, Gorman," Felina replied, catching her breath.

"That's Captain Gorman, lieutenant," Gorman said, then slid forward off of the wall, dropping down and landing on the ground below. The finish line was just ahead.

Felina frowned, and slid down. Neither of them having enough energy to run anymore. The Sergeant awaited both of them as they crossed the line.

"This must be the worst time I've ever seen," he said. "Captain Gorman, this little exercise is concluded. You're to take your men back to HQ and carry out the day's regular duties."

Gorman was bent over, his hands were on his knees. He merely nodded in reply as he began to walk off of the course. Felina started to follow in his direction when the Sergeant stopped her.

"As for you, lieutenant, the Commander wants you in his office in one hour."

* * *

><p>Commander Feral's office was spacious and sparse, with large windows on three of the four walls that overlooked the elevated airstrip and the surrounding city. His desk, which at times seemed to resemble a judge's bench, was clean and organized. A single gold nameplate glinted in the light as the sun was starting to get low on the horizon. A commander's trench-coat with full rank markings was hanging from a nearby coatrack.<p>

Felina stood in front of that desk at attention, just returning from the locker room showers, wearing a clean uniform. Her feet were blistered, and standing straight on them was killing her.

"I've been reviewing what happened at Shenanigans," Commander Feral said, sitting behind his desk, not looking at her as he flipped the pages of a report. His sleeves were rolled and his shoulder holster was visible, but empty at the moment. "And pending further review, I'm suspending you."

Felina stiffened at that.

"It wasn't my fault-," she began.

"It's not just the fight," Feral said as he set the report down. He looked up at her, and set his forearms on his desk, touching his fingertips together as he spoke. "I've received a lot of complaints about you, most notably from Ritz."

"Ritz is biased," Felina replied. "He doesn't respect any of my abilities."

"On the contrary, he has nothing but praise for your ability as a pilot, marksman and all-around Enforcer," Feral said. "So why do you think you were bypassed when it came time to choose a new CAG?"

Felina frowned, not answering.

"You're unprofessional, and borderline insubordinate in everything you do. You alienate others and you don't inspire confidence among the ranks. In short, you're not leadership material," Commander Feral said with a sigh. "The incident last night was finally something I couldn't ignore. If you weren't my niece I'd have you demoted and reassigned."

Felina's heart sank at that revelation.

"How long will I be suspended for?" she asked.

"The remainder of the week," Commander Feral said. "That will be long enough for the media outcry to diminish. Just enough time for you to return to participate in the ceremonial air demonstration to officially recognize Gorman as CAG.

Felina's sprits lifted slightly, but that feeling quickly wore off.

"I want you to pilot my two-seat Sabre so I can keep a close eye on you when you do return," Commander Feral continued, standing up. He pulled his sidearm out of a desk drawer and inserted it into his holster. He reached over to his trench-coat and put it on.

He walked out from behind his desk, heading for the door. As he reached it, he paused.

"In the meantime, you should take this time to think about your future, Felina, and whether being here is truly what you want."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 4<strong>

After her meeting with her uncle, Felina had turned in her badge to the Sergeant who was waiting outside the office.

"I'm sure this will all blow over," he said as he took the badge from her. "This city's more than once shown it can quickly forget thousands of dollars in damages if it suits them."

"I guess that's true," she replied, distantly, not really caring what the city thought.

She returned to the locker room and changed out of her uniform, putting on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt that had an Enforcer logo over the left shoulder. She put on a pair of black gym shoes and then closed her locker. Her feet still hurt, and she decided it best to take the L Train back to her apartment.

Felina lived on the east side, not too far away from the bay. It was mostly a low rent district, populated by several turn-of-the-century apartment buildings and the occasional public housing unit. Her apartment was on the fifth floor of the Happy Grove Apartment building, right in the center of it.

The L Train came to a noisy stop as the old brakes squealed in protest. The doors opened and several passengers stood to leave. Felina got up and exited as well, walking down the platform stairs that deposited her to the street. The sun was setting and the neighborhood buildings cast several long shadows. Hardly anyone was on the streets at the moment.

Happy Grove was just around the corner, and she reached the lobby in minutes. She stopped by her mail box and opened it to find it stuffed with junk mail. She discarded the contents into a nearby trashcan, and apparently wasn't the only resident who had.

One of the problems with living in Happy Grove was the lack of an elevator, and getting to the fifth floor on blistered feet didn't make it any better.

She reached the fifth floor and walked down to her door, marked 508. The five was upside-down due to the top nail having fallen out some time ago.

Felina inserted her key and unlocked the deadbolt, and then turned the knob, opening the door. The inside of her apartment was dark, and she reached over to the familiar spot to flip the light switch on.

Nothing happened.

"Great, now I need to go get some lightbulbs," she mumbled, closing the door behind her as she began to walk across the room to turn on another light.

She froze midway, as she just managed to hear something in the darkness behind her.

Breathing.

An abrupt force collided with her as she spun around, sending her flying backward into her cheaply made coffee table, causing it to collapse into pieces. Her attacker was painfully pressing her shoulders to the ground and making noises. She quickly realized that it wasn't hands that held her down, but sharp claws.

Out of reflex, she brought her legs up and wrapped them around where she assumed her assailant's upper-body would be and attempted to thrust him away. It was easier than she expected as her attacker was propelled off of her.

Felina rolled onto her hands and knees and crawled to the end table next to her sofa. She grabbed a large maglite flashlight she kept there just in case one of the semi-frequent power outages the neighborhood suffered caught her in the dark.

She turned it on and shined it across the room, and gasped in surprise at the intruder. Perched in the corner of her ceiling was a three foot tall unnaturally fleshy gremlin-like creature, staring back at her.

A Creepling, she thought, and before she could wonder why it was there it lunged at her. Without thinking she swung the maglite like a club and heard a metallic clack as it collided, causing the flashlight's bulb to break and once again plunge the room into darkness. The Creepling fell on top of her, motionless, its cold scaly skin causing a shiver to run up her spine as she flung it off of herself in revulsion.

Her pulse was racing, and she scrambled to her feet, reaching her bedroom and slamming the door behind herself. She flipped the light-switch there. Again, nothing. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She felt her way to the bed-stand and picked her phone up off of the receiver. It was also dead.

For a brief moment Felina felt something she didn't often feel. Fear.

Scratching noises, like clawed feet, could be heard scampering on the hard wood floor on the other side of the bedroom door. She hurried over to her open closet, tripping and falling over her dirty laundry that littered the floor. She swore, mentally reprimanding herself for not keeping her apartment cleaner. She crawled the rest of the way, and reached up to tip over a golf bag that was in the corner. Several clubs spilled out, along with an extra item: a black Remington 870 shotgun.

She grabbed up the weapon and clutched it to herself, racking the pump action with a loud and distinctive sound. The noise on the other side of the door stopped.

She smirked, no longer afraid.

"Yeah, you know what that sound was," she said aloud, getting to her feet. The shotgun had a tactical light attachment, and she turned it on, illuminating the space in front of her.

She cautiously crept to her bedroom door, turning the knob with one hand and pulling the door open, stepping back, aiming the gun in front of her.

There were now several Creeplings in her living room, each with mouths full of teeth that almost seemed to smile in the gleam of the tactical light. Each had deep black, pupil-less eyes that seemed to absorb the light. They were all looking directly at her, unmoving.

Felina took aim at the nearest one and pulled the trigger.

_Click._

Nothing happened. She racked the pump action again, and noticed that no shell was ejected.

The Creepling she had taken aim at made a chittering sound and held up a handful of red-colored, 12-gauge 00-buck shells in its claws. The fear returned as the Creeplings swarmed her. Felina hit one in the skull with the butt of the shotgun, but she was quickly overwhelmed and knocked to the ground. The weapon clattered to the hardwood floor. The tactical light illuminating the ceiling with the bat-like shadows of the Creeplings was the last thing she saw as a blindfold and gag were forcefully put in place.

* * *

><p>After what seemed like hours of blind, bumpy traveling in the hands of the Creeplings, Felina felt herself being restrained against something rocky. She tried to move, but found herself restrained with ropes as her blindfold and gag were removed. The world came into dimly lit focus, and she realized she was in a cave, and the object she was tied to was a stalagtite.<p>

_Or was it a stalagmite?_

Felina tried to pull herself up, but the ropes were tied tight, keeping her arms uselessly at her side.

"I trust your journey here was comfortable?" a deep voice said.

Felina frowned, recognizing the voice and the figure that emerged from the darkness.

_Dark Kat._

One of the most wanted and dangerous criminals in Megakat City. He fancied himself some kind of super-villain, and his actions did little to show otherwise. Felina had never seen him in-person, but had seen enough news footage and been in enough briefings to recognize him as he walked toward her, accompanied by several of his trademark Creeplings. His large black hooded robe, not unlike a judge's, concealed most of his body, though his deformed face more characteristic of a creature from the underworld was in full view. Felina always wondered if it was some kind of elaborate mask or whether this was what he really looked like.

Standing at near seven feet tall, he towered above her, looking down as he spoke.

"It'd be a shame if you were damaged too soon," he continued, reaching down with a clawed purple hand, adorned with several expensive looking rings. He grabbed her chin just above the throat to turn her head side-to-side as if examining a vegetable for bruises.

Felina jerked her head away in response.

"Don't touch me," she said.

Dark Kat laughed and withdrew his hand.

"So full of energy," he commented. "I'll have to make sure to include details like that in my specifications."

"What are you talking about?" Felina asked. "And where am I and what do you want with me?"

"Explanations will come shortly," Dark Kat said. "But, I prefer showing to telling."

Two Creeplings walked over to Felina and slashed her ropes with their razor-sharp claws. The pain of pins and needles was all over Felina's arms as her blood began to circulate through them. The Creeplings stood her up, holding her arms behind her and pushing her forward as Dark Kat lead the way deeper into the cave.

She didn't protest as she took in her surroundings. The cave was full of oddly colored stalagmites and stalactites, and dripping sounds were echoing all around, likely exaggerated by the acoustics of the cavern. The path was lit by several portable lights that seemed hastily and unevenly placed, causing the rocky path they walked in to occasionally be covered in shadows.

They walked a short distance to emerge into a larger chamber that was lit with several brighter construction lights. It resembled some kind of makeshift laboratory, with several tables full of test tubes, beakers, bunsen burners and a whole assortment of differently colored chemicals. At the center of the room was some kind of machine that looked like a twin-set of tanning booths. The dull hum of a generator somewhere far away could be heard. At the far end of the room bolted to the cave wall was a mesh locker, and within it were several stacked AK-47s. Felina eyed the locker.

"As you know, my hatred for the justice machine in Megakat City is paramount," Dark Kat said as he walked over to a computer.

The Creeplings escorting Felina stopped her, keeping her just within the room but not close enough to touch anything.

"For years I've schemed to overthrow the city's government and destroy the Enforcers. At first, I tried direct approaches. While nuclear weapons have their appeal, I've come to realize that perhaps something with a little more nuance is in order," he continued, typing in several commands.

Machinery in the ceiling came to life with a mechanical whir, as what appeared to be a mannequin descended from above into one of the open tanning booths. Felina soon realized it wasn't a mannequin, but some kind of animatronic robot, not unlike the kind used in rides at amusement parks. The tanning booth closed shut once the robot was placed.

"Now, my Creeplings, if you'll please deposit our guest as well," Dark Kat said.

The Creeplings tightened their grip and began to usher Felina toward the second booth. She wasn't sure what Dark Kat had in mind, but she didn't want any part of it. As they neared the booth, the Creeplings brought her close enough to one of the tables.

In a quick motion, she jumped as if skipping rope and brought her arms under her, her legs just barely passing over them, still held in place by the Creeplings at her side. With her arms now in front of her, she crossed them tight. The movement was so abrupt it caught the Creeplings off-guard and they collided headfirst into each other, falling to the ground dazed.

"Very impressive," Dark Kat said from across the chamber. "But ill-advised."

Felina didn't stop to reply as she leapt up on top of one of the lab tables, running across it, taking the shortest route to the visible weapons locker. She knocked over several glass containers, causing them to shatter. Other Creeplings were now in pursuit, but they were unable to catch up as Felina jumped off the edge and reached the locker.

She grabbed the metal latch to pull it open, but as soon as she touched it she spasmed in place, sparks briefly shooting out. Her muscles were now refusing to move as she found herself lying on the ground.

Felina couldn't even scream in pain as her body refused to do anything her brain told it to, the shock of electrocution robbing her control over her muscles.

"Predictable," Dark Kat said. "Like a mouse running to cheese."

The Creeplings reached Felina's limp form and dragged her to the second booth. She was barely aware of her surroundings, her mind swimming in a fog.

* * *

><p>Time passed. Minutes, then hours. Felina wasn't sure as the effects of electrocution wore off. She was lying on her back, inside of the booth, the lid locked closed. She had tried to push it open to no avail. A line of red light had been passing over her in regular intervals, similar to a photocopy machine.<p>

What is he doing?

Felina was starting to feel claustrophobic, the booth feeling more like a casket every moment. She hit the inside of the lid with both fists, and shouted.

"Let me out!"

After a few more minutes the red light stopped moving and turned off. The lid opened, and Felina was prepared to attack whoever was on the other side. She sat up, drawing back a fist, but then froze. She was looking at herself, looking down at…_herself_?

"As I said, I'd rather show than tell," Dark Kat said in amusement, off to the side. "You should say hello to your new twin."

The robot, the red light scanning, she thought. He's copied my appearance onto this…thing.

"Get up," the fake said, reaching down to grab Felina by the collar of her shirt, hoisting her up with ease. The fake was wearing her same white t-shirt and jeans, every detail seemingly an exact duplicate. Even the voice was the same.

Still dumbstruck, Felina didn't resist as she was lifted out and discarded to the ground.

"But…why?" she stammered.

The fake stood next to her, keeping her under guard.

Dark Kat laughed.

"As I said, I am taking a more nuanced approach," he said, walking over to a filing cabinet and withdrawing a manilla folder. He tossed it at her on the ground, and several papers with the Enforcer's watermark on them spilled out. Official reports, but not just any, Felina noticed. They were about her.

"You don't seem to make many friends at Enforcer Headquarters, Lieutenant," Dark Kat said. "And it's documented in great detail. It makes you the perfect patsy. Your antisocial tendencies, poor regard by your peers, being overlooked for an obvious promotion and now your recent suspension. No one will think twice about your motives when you kill Commander Feral."

"I'd never kill my uncle," Felina began, then realization set in as she looked up at her doppelgänger.

"Yes, you see the brilliance of my plan," Dark Kat said, pleased by the shock on Felina's face. "With Commander Feral dead, you out of the picture, and the world non-the-wiser about my involvement, the Enforcers will be vulnerable to my hidden influences."

"Hidden influences?" she asked, wondering what he meant.

"It will be the perfect opportunity to allow my mole in the Enforcers to advance up the chain of command, along with adding a few bonus casualties. So many things can go wrong at an air demonstration, after all," Dark Kat said. "I'd be remiss if I didn't kill as many high-profile spectators as possible."

"Why bother telling me all of this?" Felina asked, frowning in disgust.

"Because I enjoy sharing suffering," Dark Kat said. "And you'll have plenty of time to wallow in your sorrows while being held captive here. Once the deed is done, I may feel generous and put you out of your misery."

Felina tried to stand up to attack Dark Kat, but the fake Felina grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around and punched her across the jaw. Felina was unconscious before she hit the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 5<strong>

Felina felt herself watching from a distance as Commander Feral walked down the air strip at Enforcer Headquarters, several Sabres lined up outside the hangar, prepped for takeoff. The shift's pilots were standing at attention by their planes. In front of all of them was Gorman, who exchanged salutes with Commander Feral. They exchanged words, but Felina couldn't hear what they were saying.

_Why can't I hear anything?_

Commander Feral walked away from Gorman and approached his two-seat Sabre. The aircraft was outfitted mostly for super-sonic transit rather than tactical operations, so the missile hard points had been removed. He walked up to the aircraft and saluted the uniformed lieutenant who was standing beside it.

_Wait, that's me. Why am I looking at me?_

Felina watched herself salute back and both she and her uncle got strapped into the cockpit. Felina watched herself doing the usual pre-flight checks as the canopy closed above them, sealing shut and partially pressurizing. She flipped three switches and started the aircraft's power-plant with a slow whir that eventually became a dull roar. Gorman's fighter took the point and taxied first, getting into place on the catapult. The deck crew gave the all clear and he could be seen hitting his afterburner and launching off the edge and into the sky.

Commander Feral was distractedly going over something on a clipboard as he adjusted his helmet. Felina put her helmet on as well, and taxied forward. They were next. Felina stopped at the catapult as the deck crew positioned the gear into place. She pushed forward on the throttle, testing the afterburners, the brakes keeping the Sabre steady. The noise of the engine would be deafening to anyone nearby outside without ear protection.

_Okay…why aren't I taking off? And why do I hear that?_

Abruptly Felina found herself in the pilot's seat, no longer watching from afar, but she had no control over her actions, watching helplessly as she withdrew her sidearm, the familiar grips of a Glock 17 in her hand. She turned to face behind her, taking point-blank aim at her uncle.

Commander Feral's face was full of surprise as she pulled the trigger. She heard the gunshot clearly as blood spattered on her helmet's visor.

"No!" she screamed, sitting up, sweat dripping down her face. She awoke from the nightmare, sitting on top of a prison-style bunk in a small cell. She took in the unfamiliar surroundings, as the memories of the earlier events returned to her.

"So it wasn't just a dream," she said aloud rubbing the side of her face. Her black eye wasn't going to be going away anytime soon.

Felina stood up and walked across the roughly ten foot square room. A lone 40-watt lightbulb hung from the ceiling, its amber glow casting odd shadows among the stalactites in the ceiling.

A cell in the caves…more like a dungeon then, Felina thought, approaching a cast-iron barred door that prevented her exit. A Creepling walked past, dragging its claws along the bars so they clanged and made noise as it went by. Felina frowned, the action of her captors upsetting her. Then realization struck, and soon turned to panic.

"My uncle…" she said, and began to pace around the cell, looking for anything that could aid in an escape. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but the aching of her bruised body told her it had been a significant amount of time. Everything in the cell was anchored to the cave walls and floor, even the mattress-less cot. After several minutes frustration set in, and she grabbed the bars of the door, trying to shake them. They didn't budge. She slammed her fists painfully on the nearest wall, and then slumped down to a sitting position on the floor.

The frustration soon turned to a new feeling: helplessness. Dark Kat's stated intent had been to cause her suffering, and being trapped in a dungeon knowing that her uncle was going to be killed by something that looked like her was accomplishing that. She closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples, as a new thought came to mind.

_My uncle's last sight will be me killing him._

Felina now wished that Dark Kat had just killed her. It would have been preferable to knowing about his deranged scheme and being unable to do anything about it.

"You're awake?" a familiar voice called from outside of her cell, across the cave.

Felina opened her eyes and scrambled to the door. Someone was in another cell across from hers.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Good," the voice said with some relief. "The way they dragged you in there, and for how long you were out, I thought they might've killed you."

"I almost wished they had," Felina said, the hopelessness of the situation lessening. With another prisoner came another perspective, a potential ally in an escape. "How long was I out?"

"At least a day, but it's hard to tell down here," the voice said. The dim light made it difficult to see clearly, but Felina finally saw who it was in the other cell.

"You're the guy from the bar," Felina said with surprise, and then felt her stomach rumble from hunger. If she'd been here for as long as her stomach seemed to be telling her then there wasn't much time left.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he said with a shrug. He was still wearing the backwards baseball cap and coveralls, but his clothes were torn and he had several visible bruises.

The momentary relief at seeing someone else quickly turned to suspicion, as Dark Kat's words echoed in her mind.

_My mole in the Enforcers…_

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her police-mentality taking over.

He crossed his arms in response, Felina's tone none too subtle.

"Look, I've got nothing to do with you being here, Lieutenant," he said. "Though I can see why you'd have some trust issues at the moment."

"You're not an Enforcer," Felina said. "At least not an active one like you lead me to believe. Gorman said you and your partner had been kicked off the force."

"Well, technically I never said I was _still _an Enforcer," he replied sheepishly. "But I did attend OCS, got my certification and everything. Though it didn't last long."

"Why were you really at the bar the other night, then?" Felina asked.

"Okay, I admit that I don't know Jones that well," he said. "But it was the excuse that let me in the door to poke around a little bit. Ask some questions about something unusual I noticed."

"You work at a junkyard," Felina replied dryly, recalling Gorman's words.

"It's a military salvage yard and auto repair shop," he replied, somewhat indignant. "And that's where me and my co-worker noticed a whole lot of parts being recalled."

"What kind of parts?" she asked.

"Enforcer Sabres. Typically we get a number of them that are damaged out. We do an inventory of useable parts, disassemble and organize, and anything that's too broken we crush and send to be melted down. The rest we send to the manufacturer for recycling or reuse. Occasionally we have to recover live ordnance from the wreckage. Hence the whole _military_ salvage yard."

"Nothing unusual about that," Felina said, wondering if this story was going to have a point.

"That's the thing, over the past month, specific parts were being recalled from our inventory. Not by the manufacturer, but by HQ itself. At first it was a fly-by-wire system here, a radar assembly there, specific sections of fuselage and then recovered live ordnance. We didn't think much of it at first, until my co-worker said someone could literally build a Sabre from scratch with the parts that were individually recalled at different times," he continued.

"So, having nothing better to do, I called our regular contact at Enforcer headquarters. Turns out these recalls weren't going through them, but from some higher up named Ritz, and that the transactions were classified and we weren't supposed to talk about them with anyone."

"Classified?" Felina asked. "For a bunch of Sabre parts?"

"I know. There's nothing in a Sabre that should warrant that. No stealth technology, no top secret weapons system. Nothing you couldn't find out at a library," he said.

Felina thought about that. What would Ritz be doing recalling a bunch of parts and keeping it secret? He was the CAG then. Something so mundane as dealing with inventory was below an officer of his rank.

_My mole in the Enforcers…_

"You still aren't explaining why you're here," Felina said with a frown.

"Well, I got curious and decided to find some answers. I called around and found out about the retirement and promotion party at Shenanigans. Thought it'd be the perfect opportunity to ask some questions after everyone had a few drinks. I think I was a little bit too obvious, because that fight started and well…you know the rest," he said, gesturing to her black eye.

"Anyway, after I walked you back to your apartment, I got on the L Train, and I was attacked by a bunch of those Creeplings. Tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. Found myself bound and gagged, then here," he said, pointing to the floor. "I think I've been here a day longer than you."

"Have you tried escaping?" she asked.

"These cells are locked up tight. No way out of here. Not without some power tools, anyway," he said.

It was then that a pair of Creeplings descended from above and landed between the two cells, both of them moving toward Felina. One of them held an AK-47 clumsily in its grasp, the end of the barrel pointed at her. She backed away from the door as the other opened it, seemingly gesturing her to follow it. She glanced at her fellow prisoner as she was ushered out of the cell.

"I'll try to get us out of here, call for help somehow," she said as she was shoved forward.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 6<strong>

The Creeplings led Felina along a path in that cave that took them upwards, eventually depositing them to the outside world. She squinted as they exited the mouth of the cave, the sunlight harsh on her dilated eyes. To her surprise she recognized the location as Megakat Caverns State Park, a small tourist destination located just outside of the city. This particular cave was next to a ranger station, complete with a small dirt airstrip. Several signs were posted, reading CLOSED FOR THE SEASON. The perimeter was surrounded by an encroaching forest of Jeffrey Pine, nearly hiding a one-lane access road. She avoided stepping on several pine cones that littered the area.

It was a perfectly secluded spot, far from anyone, and Felina suspected the dirt airstrip was the main reason Dark Kat chose it. Next to the small ranger station, there was a vehicle covered in a tarp. It's shape was unmistakeable to her. An Enforcer Sabre.

"Are the elements of my plan coming into focus for you?" Dark Kat asked from behind her. Felina nearly jumped out of her skin, causing the Creepling with the rifle to take aim anew.

"Careful, my pet," Dark Kat said. "We wouldn't want the lieutenant to expire prematurely."

The Creepling relaxed slightly, and Felina regained her composure.

"Let me guess, you built your own Sabre out of parts from that junk yard that Ritz supplied you," Felina said.

"Very good," Dark Kat said. "I've underestimated your powers of deduction."

Dark Kat snapped his fingers and several Creeplings exited from the ranger station. They worked together to quickly lift the tarp from the parked aircraft, revealing a two-seat Enforcer Sabre, looking almost brand new. The paint job glistened in the sunlight, allowing Felina to see it was a perfect copy of Commander Feral's designated aircraft. The canopy slowly began to open.

"What I don't understand is why," Felina continued, glancing at the armed Creepling out of the corner of her eye. "Why would Ritz be helping you?"

"I suppose I should answer that," a voice said from the cockpit of the Sabre.

Felina scowled, seeing it was Ritz.

Ritz stood up and climbed out the side, dropping to the ground. He was wearing his silver aviator sunglasses, an Enforcer T-shirt and black cargo pants. His normally clean black boots were covered in the dirt from the airstrip. His retirement gift was clearly visible in his shoulder holster, the Enforcer logo on the grips a clear giveaway.

"Your uncle and I go way back," Ritz said. "We were both recruits at OCS at the same time. I've always tested better, and I've always performed better, yet somehow he managed to get ahead."

"That's what this is about?" she said, nearly dumbstruck. "Some kind of jealous rivalry with my uncle?"

"That's how it started out," Ritz continued. "But over the years, I realized there was much more at stake. Ulysses Feral is misguided. I've had to blindly follow his orders, and seen countless pilots get killed or injured. Because of the nepotism that seems to run the Enforcers, from the Ferals to the Steeles and the Manxs, I'd never have a chance of obtaining a top-level command, to try to reform things and keep my pilots safe."

Felina briefly remembered Captain Jackson's reassignment, the result of injuries sustained during air combat during a mission her uncle had planned. She shook her head.

"So you turned to him?" Felina nearly shouted, pointing toward Dark Kat, who merely stood by, seemingly enjoying the show.

"Yes, I did, because I want Feral to pay for his arrogance with his life, just like so many other Enforcers did," Ritz said angrily. "And you, you're just like him. Stubborn and pigheaded. You represent the inevitable future of the force, and that was the last straw."

Felina couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd never liked Ritz all that much, and only gave him the bare minimum level of respect a superior deserved, but she had never imagined he would sink this low. She thought of the many names to call him, but the sound of a jet engine coming in low interrupted her retort.

"And, so my patsy arrives," Dark Kat said, looking upward. A two-seater Enforcer Sabre was cruising in low, the landing gear extended. It came in low over the pine and touched down on the runway, kicking up a small plume of dust. The engines throttled back as the jet rolled to a stop in front of the group. For a brief second Felina had a hope that it was someone there to help, but that was quickly dashed as the canopy opened.

The fake Felina exited the cockpit, dropping to the ground. It was wearing her flight suit and helmet.

"And now, once again, we exchange the real for the fake," Dark Kat said as the doppleganger strode past them, walking to the rebuilt jet. "We must move quickly. The lull in the radar signature will only last so long."

Felina eyed her twin as it walked past, noting that the Sabre it had arrived in was the actual jet she would have flown her uncle in. It was standard procedure for a pilot to take a newly assigned aircraft for a test flight before using it in an official mission. The fake Felina had obviously managed to fool everyone at HQ already, and was now using the test flight as a way to discreetly exchange planes. Felina would routinely drop out of radar contact during her own personal test runs, often dropping in low through the nearby canyons and mountain ranges. No one would suspect a thing.

Another thought came to mind. Her suspension was now likely over, meaning that the air demonstration was soon.

"I honestly can't tell the difference between them, other than the new one seems to follow orders," Ritz said, giving Felina a smirk.

The fake boarded the rebuilt jet and powered up the engines. Within less than a minute the canopy closed and its afterburner came to life, sending it rocketing forward down the dirt airstrip and into the sky.

"One thing I haven't figured out, why the rebuilt Sabre?" she said, once again glancing out of the corner of her eye at the Creepling with the rifle. It was apparently getting bored, and its attention seemed to be wandering as the jet took off.

"A little modification I made, seeing as how there will be no ordnance aboard the air demonstration fighters. I planted one hundred pounds of C4 inside the fuselage. Your Uncle will be taking an express trip to the Mayor's box seat at Enforcer Headquarters upon landing. It's extra insurance to make sure no one survives," Dark Kat explained. "Routine aircraft checks would make doing it at any other point difficult to conceal."

"And you're okay with this?" Felina asked in disbelief, looking at Ritz.

"My pilots will be in the air. Frankly, I couldn't care less if some bureaucrats like the Mayor, Deputy Mayor and Lt. Commander are caught in the 'accident," he said. "With them out of the way, the city will have to look to those who have the right experience to act as a replacement."

"Even the retired…" Felina said dismissively.

"I'm counting on it," Ritz said as he reached to his shoulder holster and withdrew the chrome plated .45. "But now, it's time to tie up some lose ends, starting with that nosy junkyard mechanic down in the cell."

"A good idea, Ritz," Dark Kat said as he turned away. "But first, I think you should take care of the lieutenant. We will need to substitute a corpse among the wreckage at some point, just to assure no inappropriate questions arise during the investigation."

The Creepling with the rifle yawned, and in that instant Felina spun around and soccer-kicked it in the jaw, sending the pink creature flipping back and the rifle into the air. She caught it and spun around, taking aim at Ritz, who in that instant had managed to aim his sidearm at her.

"That was pretty quick," Ritz said, aiming with both hands gripped tightly.

"I practice my quickdraw in front of a mirror," Felina said, pulling the rifle butt tight into her shoulder, staring down the barrel of the gun. She felt her thumb on the fire selector, confirming by touch the weapon's safety was off and ready to fire semi-automatically. Ritz's face filled her iron-sights, and Felina regretted not pulling the trigger instantly, as she was now stuck in a standoff.

"Well, Ritz, it would seem you're in quite the predicament," Dark Kat said over his shoulder, seemingly unfazed as he continued on his way. A black limousine pulled up from behind the ranger station, obscured from view until now. The rear passenger door opened on its own as Dark Kat took a seat within. The window rolled down as the door shut.

"It's fortunate you have me on your side," Dark Kat said from within. "My pets will assist you."

The window rolled back up and out of the corner of her eye Felina saw the limousine drive away. At the same moment a dozen Creeplings descended from above, landing in-between the two Enforcers, obscuring Felina's aim at Ritz, who was now diving off to the side.

"Hold it!" she shouted, and pulled the trigger. The AK-47 opened up with a volley of fire, the gun digging into her shoulder. She wasn't used to the larger round and firing it unexpectedly fully automatic caused her aim to be off. She completely missed Ritz and instead hit several Creeplings that got in the way. They dropped dead to the ground while the rest retreated into the air, heading in different directions. They'd apparently served their purpose, Felina thought, as Ritz was no nowhere to be seen.

"Stupid fire selector," Felina said under her breath, now remembering that the AK-47 and all of its variants were set to fire fully-automatic in the default position, opposite most rifles. She clicked the fire selector again, switching to semi-automatic, ensuring more accurate shots as she quickly darted over to the ranger station to take cover near the door, back to the wall.

Now what? she thought. Ritz is still nearby, and he's armed, and that robot is probably already back at HQ by now. Plus there's the guy who's still locked up in the cave. She sighed, her ears ringing slightly from her brief burst of loud automatic fire. She then glanced to her left, and saw the original Enforcer Sabre still parked with the canopy open.

_I can use the radio and send out a warning._

Felina looked left and then right, not seeing Ritz. She began to slowly approach the parked jet, keeping the barrel of the rifle pointed out as she backed up to it. A crow cawed in the distance, but she heard nothing else.

_Maybe he's run away to fight another day…_

Without a ladder she'd have to climb up the wing and over the fuselage, which would require both hands. She quickly slid the rifle on the wing, and then pulled herself up and over the top. It took a lot more effort than she expected, and realized over a day without food or adequate rest was starting to take its toll.

Once there, Felina took another glance at her surroundings, still seeing nothing. She edged forward, and slid ackwardly around the open canopy to crouch down into the cockpit. She set the rifle upright, there being no room to correctly hold it anyway as she picked up the flight mask and adjusted the frequency on the radio. Everything seemed to be in working order.

"Tower One, this is Lt. Feral," she said into the mask's microphone, holding it just in front of her face. "Do you copy, over?"

She heard nothing but static, likely interference from the terrain. As she contemplated flying the jet to get to a better altitude, she saw a reflection in the heads-up-display, and without thinking jumped out of the cockpit as the console in front of her exploded in a burst of sparks, followed by the loud and now echoing shot of Ritz's .45.

"Just to be clear," Ritz said from atop the jet, standing behind the cockpit. "I was aiming for the radio."

Felina was now on the ground, disarmed, the rifle still in the cockpit. She scrambled, rolling to get underneath the wing as Ritz took aim and fired, several small holes cratering just behind her.

"Still haven't broken this thing in yet," Ritz said as he ejected a spent magazine that clattered down loudly onto the fuselage and fell to the ground next to where Felina was pressed behind the rear landing gear. "Maybe a small sight adjustment is in order."

"It's brand new," Felina replied, slowly moving, crouched low, toward the opposite end. "You might need to get a gunsmith to lessen the trigger pull. Maybe half a pound."

"That's good advice," Ritz said as he put a new magazine in, and released the slide, causing it to chamber loudly with a snap-click. He dropped down off the top of the plane and landed on the ground, instantly taking a knee and aiming under the jet. Felina was nowhere to be seen. Ritz frowned, and then looked up, just in time to see the bottom of a shoe rushing at his face.

Felina had managed to climb up over the wing on the opposite side of the Sabre just as Ritz had jumped down, and had now run across the wingspan to drop-kick him in the face.

Ritz flew backward, the pistol flying out of his grasp and sliding some distance away in the dirt. The impact had knocked the wind out of him, and broke his nose, blood dripping down his face as he slowly sat up, disoriented from the impact. The attack had hurt Felina almost as much, her body already protesting from the punishment it had already taken as she laid on her back, rolling to her side.

They both looked at each other, both noticing the gun was an equal distance of about five yards away from them.

"Alright, lieutenant, why don't we just take a break," he said, taking out a handkerchief and placing it against his nose. "There's plenty of time to be dead later."

"You've got a point," Felina said, still slightly out of breath. They sat there silent, each keeping an eye on each other, both occasionally glancing at the gun. After some time, she spoke again.

"You're really going to let Dark Kat get away with killing my uncle and who knows who else over a managerial disagreement?" she said, her heart rate finally slowing back to normal.

"I'd like to think it's more complicated than that, but yes," he replied. "It's the same thing he and all the others do. Just look the other way."

"You realize you're just a tool for him," Felina said. "Dark Kat will kill you too, when he's done with you."

"That's definitely a risk," Ritz replied. "That's why I'll have to kill him first."

Felina chuckled, not doubting for an instant that Ritz wasn't sincere in his intentions.

"I guess that's some consolation, in all of this," Felina said. "But I get the feeling you're underestimating Dark Kat, and overestimating yourself."

"How's that?" Ritz asked.

"Because you're not going to get a chance to kill Dark Kat," she said, standing up. Ritz smiled, and did the same.

"You know, I never questioned your abilities," he said as he took his eyes off her and now looked at the weapon. Even partially covered in dirt it glistened in the sunlight.

"Just my demeanor?" she said, not really asking.

"I'll try to present your death in a positive light to your peers," Ritz said, and then dashed forward.

Felina ran as well, but Ritz was slightly ahead of her as he baseball slid forward, grabbing the handle and then spinning around. He fired two shots that zinged just over Felina's shoulder as she dove forward into him, landing on top. Now up close, she pushed the gun to the side with her left forearm as she punched him in the face with her right fist. Ritz screamed in pain, the hit amplified by his already broken nose.

He managed to kick her off and got up quickly, holding his nose with a free hand as he took aim with the other. His vision was blurred as he fired several more rounds, but all of them missed. Felina edged in close and managed kick Ritz in the side of the leg, causing him to drop to his knees. She took the opportunity to get behind him, wrapping one arm over his forehead and the other around his neck, and locking her legs around his torso, trapping him in a makeshift hold, cutting off his air supply.

They both fell backward onto the dirt, as Ritz tried to reach around with the gun to fire several more rounds. It was deafeningly close, and Felina shouted at him, but he missed each time as the slide locked back, the gun empty.

Ritz's face turned red and his breathing became gasps as he dropped the now useless gun and was trying to use his hands to pry Felina's arms off. But it was too little, too late as his struggling diminished, his face turning purple.

Felina tightened her grip, all the anger she'd had pent up being released. Ritz went limp, and after a moment Felina broke the hold and kicked him away. He was still breathing, but unconscious. She stood up, hurried over to him, and grabbed the last spare magazine from his shoulder holster. She scraped the .45 off the ground and quickly loaded it, taking aim at Ritz's unmoving form.

It was tempting, to just finish it right then and there. His traitorous actions seemed to warrant it. She sighed, finally catching her breath.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Ritz," Felina said as she clicked the safety into place, tucking the pistol into the waist of her jeans at the small of her back. "But this is proof that I can follow the rules."


	7. Chapter 7

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 7<strong>

The radio of the Sabre was broken beyond repair, and she didn't dare go back into the cave without backup. Dark Kat was infamous for his traps, and Felina wouldn't go back in there without a bomb squad unit.

The mechanic will have to wait, she thought, regretting having to leave him behind. But if she didn't act quickly, her uncle and others would die. With no other vehicle available and the ranger station inconveniently empty of anything useful, she climbed into the pilot's seat of the Sabre, shoving the AK-47 into the rear-seat. She skipped a pre-flight check as she started the single engine. It's steady whir grew to a roar as she closed the canopy.

Ritz was still lying unconscious nearby.

_I'll just have to risk him escaping._

She taxied down the dirt air strip, bringing the jet a full 180 degrees around. She snapped in the locks of her flight harness, hoping that her body would be able to handle the stresses of super sonic flight without a g-suit long enough.

Felina increased the throttle, and set off at take-off speed. It was a slower though familiar process. Without the aid of a pneumatic catapult or the elevated platform of Enforcer Headquarters, it was taking longer to get off the ground, and this air strip was better suited for prop planes. The tree line rushed at her as she pulled up, hearing the tips of Jeffrey pine scrape the bottom of the fuselage. She was in the air, and noting the bearing on the heads-up-display, she adjusted her course to take her south west. Back toward Megakat City.

* * *

><p>The skyline of Megakat City filled her view, the terrain below gradually transitioning from forest, to desert and then to suburbs and finally to densely packed buildings and skyscrapers. Felina had used her afterburner to send her rocketing forward at top speed, well past the sub-sonic speed limit she'd normally follow in non-emergency flight this close to the populace. But, this wasn't a non-emergency flight.<p>

Any minute now the two pilots who were on regular patrol would intercept her, she knew. Probably Jones and Stevenson.

Her radar beeped as two dots appeared on the screen. Just as soon two Sabres soared past her from the front, criss-crossing behind her to follow in formation, taking an attack position.

"Okay, hope you remember your procedures before you shoot me down," she said to herself as she throttled down and tilted the flight stick back and forth. Her Sabre rocked its wings.

The lead interceptor rushed forward, flying parallel to her. She glanced to the right, and saw through the canopy that it was Stevenson. He looked surprised and confused, and she pointed at her console.

"No radio," she said, and he seemed to be able to understand. He rocked his wings in response and took the lead, heading for Enforcer HQ.

* * *

><p>With no radio Felina had to visually confirm that the runway was clear. Bright beacon lights were now pulsating along the landing section, guiding her in. She noticed there were a lot more people on the expansive flight deck than normal, realizing that the ceremony must've just been about to begin. Several crew were in the process of moving several VIPs back to a safer distance.<p>

When the time seemed right she angled her Sabre down and deployed the landing gear. She'd made this landing hundreds if not thousands of times before, but today she was worried. What had Stevenson said to the tower? Did her robotic double know it was her? She still felt Ritz's 1911 tucked into her jeans at her back, frowning.

"I'm going to have to act fast," she said, leveling out. She lurched forward slightly as her landing gear hit the flight deck, and her tail-hook caught the catch line that brought her to a rapid stop. She throttled down. A successful landing.

She noticed a crowd was starting to build up around her, with several armed commandos surrounding the jet, taking a half-ready stance with their rifles. Commander Feral was walking out front, followed by the Sergeant and Gorman. Mayor Manx and his staff including the Deputy Mayor could also be seen, along with Ann Gora of Kats Eye News, but they were being kept back by other Enforcers. Her double was nowhere to be seen.

Commander Feral looked surprised, probably recognizing the aircraft as his own. She opened the canopy, unstrapping her restraints and held up her hands as she came fully into view.

"It's me, Lieutenant Felina Feral," she called out. The commandos immediately relaxed their stances, seeing who it was.

"Felina?" her uncle said.

She started to reply, but stopped mid-sentence. Her doppelgänger had emerged from the crowd, fully dressed in her flight suit, wearing the visored helmet that half-concealed its face. It also wore her holster, and it was now withdrawing her sidearm with one hand, walking up to her uncle and taking point blank aim at his head.

In an instant, the robot's head exploded in a burst of sparks, revealing the animatronic inner-workings as it collapsed to the flight deck. The commandos drew their weapons in confusion, not knowing what just happened, as Commander Feral jumped back in surprise, looking down at the motionless robot at his feet that was still clutching the Glock. He looked back up to see where the shot had come from.

Felina was standing at her position, still in the cockpit, the barrel of Ritz's gun smoking from the single shot she had just taken.

* * *

><p>"This area is a crime scene, get everyone back," Commander Feral ordered.<p>

"Yes sir," the Sergeant replied and began to take control of the area, shouting out orders. Several members of the media resisted being herded, the clicking of camera shutters and flashes ever present. Commander Feral walked over to Felina, who had exited the jet. The stern look on his face softened when he saw her condition.

"And get a medic up here!" he shouted.

"I don't need a medic, but I could use a sandwich," she said as she put the safety back on, holding the gun by its barrel and handing it over. He took it from her, looking it over.

"Ritz?" he asked.

"He's working for Dark Kat, helped him arrange this whole thing. There's an exact copy of your Sabre that robot brought back. Rigged to explode after the air demonstration," Felina explained. "Dark Kat's base is at Megakat Caverns, I left Ritz there after he tried to kill me."

Commander Feral's expression switched to disgust upon hearing the explanation, and another thought crossed his mind.

"Is he dead?" Feral asked.

"No, he's alive," she said, pausing, noticing a familiar black jet circling above and then switching to vertical flight to land a short distance away. It was the Turbokat, the jet of the SWAT Kats.

"What are they doing here?" Feral said, his mood already soured, momentarily distracted.

The two masked vigilantes exited from their jet and hurried over to the Deputy Mayor who was was among the crowd.

"They're probably just checking on Briggs," Felina said, somewhat amused. "She is their number one fan, after all."

"I'll want a complete report," Feral said as he walked away, but paused. "Please promise me you'll go to the infirmary."

"I will," Felina said, acknowledging the concern. "And, just so you know, I really do want to be here," she said, echoing the Commander's earlier words he'd said to her in his office days prior.

Feral's expression remained unchanged as he turned away, shouting out orders.

"Sergeant, get these people out of here! And get me the bomb squad unit on the double!"

* * *

><p>The Sabre had been cordoned off and the visiting crowd dispersed, though the SWAT Kats had remained behind, seemingly determined to supervise the activity of the bomb squad. Commander Feral reluctantly allowed them to stay as the explosive ordnance disposal team went to work.<p>

The Sabre was indeed full of explosives, rigged to detonate upon a crash landing. There was no beacon or remote detonation system in place, however. Both SWAT Kats seemed to be well aware of the situation as the Enforcers successfully disarmed the plane.

"Dark Kat wanted to keep this as well hidden as possible," the SWAT Kat Razor said. "Any extra radio signals coming off an Enforcer Jet would be noticed and trackable back to him."

"He didn't want anyone to know about his involvement when he took you and your uncle out," T-Bone, the other SWAT Kat, said. "That's awfully sneaky, even for him."

Felina was standing beside them, eating a candy bar she had retrieved from a vending machine. It wasn't much, but it helped her rumbling stomach subside. She finished it and crumpled the wrapper into a pocket.

"It's because Ritz was his inside man," Felina explained, mid-chew. "With everyone dead he thought he'd be brought back out of retirement to run the place."

"You really think that would have worked?" T-Bone asked skeptically.

"It's possible," Razor said, scratching his chin in thought, glancing at the destroyed robotitc copy of Felina that was still lying on the flight deck. Several forensic investigators were near it taking photos. "Who knows what other strings Dark Kat has been pulling behind-the-scenes, especially now that we know he can do that."

"It still seems too stupid," T-Bone continued. "The evidence of explosives would be found after an investigation."

"Well, it's Dark Kat. Maybe he just wanted everyone to think this plan failed, so that way everyone's pointing fingers at each other, weakening everyone's trust," Razor said.

"Or, maybe he's just showing off, essentially saying he can do whatever he wants, even convince someone to turn traitor," Felina said.

"Yeah, knowing that seems almost as bad," T-Bone said. "If Ritz could be working for Dark Kat, anyone could."

Felina briefly wondered just how it was T-Bone and Razor knew about Ritz to speak so knowingly, but that thought was cut short.

"Oh no…" Felina said outloud, turning her attention away from the bomb squad successfully taking the Sabre apart. "There was another prisoner I was with at Megakat Caverns. A mechanic who worked at a junkyard. He tipped me off to Ritz's involvement."

"Already taken care of," T-Bone said. "We just got back from there."

"You did?" she asked.

"We were on a, uh, routine patrol," Razor explained. "Testing out some new equipment, happened to detect a lot of gunfire in a remote region, along with a brief radio transmission that cut out abruptly."

"We would've told the Commander more up front, but he seems a bit busy at the moment," T-Bone said. "Besides, it's probably better that we went. Whole place was booby trapped. We barely got that guy out of there alive."

"You didn't happen to see Ritz anywhere nearby?" she asked, the thought of his escape upsetting her.

"Unfortunately, no," Razor said. "But I've got the feeling he's got bigger problems than us."

"Dark Kat doesn't take anyone failing him too well," T-Bone said, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, thanks guys," Felina said with a mixture of relief and pensiveness. The sun was starting to set, causing the nearby skyscrapers to cast long shadows across Enforcer Headquarters.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: **Last Names**  
>Date: October 2011<br>Author: MoDaD  
>Genre(s): Drama, Suspense, Action, Sci-Fi<br>Rating: T  
>Words: 16,800 (42 pages)<br>Beta Reader: Kristen Sharpe

**Summary**: A look at Felina Feral's position in the Enforcers and how her last name has and continues to affect her life.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 8<strong>

Several weeks had passed and Felina had filed her report. Dark Kat was still at large and Ritz still unaccounted for. The morale of most of the pilots was low, and several of them seemed to think the story of Ritz turning traitor wasn't entirely true, causing her low standing with many of them to be even lower. She didn't care, though, and returned to active duty, her earlier suspension seemingly expunged.

One thing she had wondered, though, was why the robot didn't act sooner to fulfill its mission once she was sighted by the interceptors. She'd found out that Stevenson had merely reported a fellow Enforcer in trouble, without naming names.

"I'd seen you earlier in the day and you hadn't seemed yourself," Stevenson had explained. "I thought it was best to be as discreet as possible once I saw a second 'you' flying back at high speed."

"You know, you've got some veteran instinct for a rookie," Felina had said.

Gorman's big day had been ruined, but he didn't seem bothered by it. During his first official day as CAG he'd read off the flight assignments, and scheduled Felina to be his wingman. He hadn't given any explanation, though she assumed he wanted to keep an eye on her. She still didn't like him very much, but she had to admit, he was good enough for the job despite the jump in rank. And, he did seem to inspire leadership among the pilots better than she ever had.

Commander Feral was leading his own personal investigation into the inner-workings of Megakat City and the Enforcers as a whole now that it was known that Dark Kat had the ability to make robotic duplicates of people. So far nothing else had turned up, but he was determined in his search, much to the chagrin of the Mayor's office.

Despite his betrayal, Ritz's criticism still rung in her mind, and she knew it was an opinion shared by many in the Enforcers. Was she only here because of her last name? Did she bend the rules a bit too much, and get away with it due to nepotism? She honestly wasn't sure anymore, but ever since the academy she'd decided that concerns like that were not very productive. Felina knew she did her best, and was one of the best. Dark Kat and Ritz had both underestimated her resolve.

If there was some kind of lesson or moral she could apply to the recent events she didn't see it, though she pondered on whether or not leaving Ritz alive was the right thing to have done.

Shenanigans was repaired, and no hard feelings were had with the owner. The bar fight scandal was completely forgotten about in light of Dark Kat's plot and Ritz's betrayal. Needless to say, Commander Feral wasn't going to be the only one launching investigations, as the Enforcers were now under even more public scrutiny, particularly from the Mayor's office.

All of these problems made Felina's head hurt, and thanks to Shenanigans being repaired and open for business once more, she knew how to at least temporarily alleviate that.

* * *

><p>"If I get you another round you're not going to tear this place up again, are you?" the bartender asked.<p>

"I might if you don't," Felina replied with a smirk. The bartender sighed and turned to the row of bottles behind him to prepare another drink. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a familiar face take a seat one over from her, and she smiled.

"Well, if it isn't that nosy mechanic who still thinks he's an Enforcer," she said. "You must be a real loser to spend your free time looking into suspicious parts returns and getting yourself caught by Dark Kat," she said with good humor.

"Guilty as charged," he replied as he turned to the bartender. "I'll have what she's having."

"Put it on my tab," Felina said, taking a shot from the glass that was just placed in front of her. "Glad the SWAT Kats managed to rescue you. Too bad they didn't show up sooner."

"I'm just glad they showed up at all," he said, taking a drink himself once it arrived.

"You know, next time you notice something suspicious, don't go to the desks, come to someone like me," she said. "You can't save the world on your own."

"That's a lot truer than you know," he said, hiding some deeper meaning in his words. "Though, after what I read in the papers about what you did and went through, I have to say I'm impressed. You're a real badass, lieutenant."

"Yeah, and I fly a real badass plane," she replied.

"That shoots badass guns?" he continued.

"Going faster than the speed of sound dropping badass bombs," Felina continued, downing another shot and slamming the glass upside-down on the counter.

"Flying with other badasses whose respect you've earned?"

"Well, that's yet to be known," she said with a chuckle.

"You've earned my respect, lieutenant," he said, downing a shot as well.

"Oh yeah? And what makes you a badass?" she said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Maybe someday I'll tell you," he said wryly.

They both sat there silently for a few moments, with him obviously sitting there in anticipation of an admission. Felina finally sighed and smiled, a little embarrassed.

"You've probably figured it out already," Felina said. "But I completely forgot your name."

"I know," he said, smiling back.

"So, knowing about the junkyard-sorry, _salvage yard_ you work in, it wasn't hard to find your shop's name, so that narrowed it down to two options," she said, facing him now. "So, which one are you, Jake or Chance?"

* * *

><p>End.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Special thanks to Kristen Sharpe for proofreading.<em>


End file.
